


Endless Fragments Of Time

by Coop_Scoop



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: AU, Coma, Eddie is in a coma, Everyone Is Alive, M/M, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Stan Lives, baby uris, everyone lives au, kiss, richie is a hopeless mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:27:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29345862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coop_Scoop/pseuds/Coop_Scoop
Summary: Richie spends his days sitting by the bed of a man who can't hear him. Can't feel his touch and most of all doesn't know that he is the centre of his universe. But sometimes that hope is what keeps him going, has him becoming the man he lost.He just wishes he could share it all with him.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris
Kudos: 28





	Endless Fragments Of Time

The sky was heavy with snow, huge contaminated flakes melted against his skin. The cold water dripping down his face like tears had done months ago. The scars over his body ached with the cold that drained away any warmth that had lingered from inside the building. He had walked all around being shown where he was going to do his big come back, over a year in the making. 

Richie had spent months sitting by a comatose man's bedside, watched his loving wife give up within six months when the sympathy started to wear out. How she had filed for divorce which was passed quickly and with no gains on her side. She had been vicious when the prenup had been brought back up. 

He had blinked and sighed when the Doctors came in to inform him every morning about the minimal changes. Spent his time telling jokes to a room where no one would laugh and somehow it was cathartic. 

A few nurses had stood by the door and listened, he only knew when their laughter rang through the loneliest hallway in the hospital. Multiple people sitting, talking and crying with a loved one who could do nothing about their pain. Just lay in a bed with the hopes they would wake up or just die. To save them from the pain of knowing they could do nothing to help them. 

Yet, here was Richie. Making his way to the rehab centre. Knowing that he was putting money into the hope that his friend would be able to do anything if he woke up. It was already a miracle he had survived. That his spine was completely intact. That he had healed at all. 

Weeks had passed where he was getting phone calls from the nurses, telling him he needed to come down as they didn’t think he was going to survive this infection. This surgery. This night. They had quickly come to realise even if he wasn’t on the next of kin, that he obviously meant a lot to Eddie. Somehow stories had come from the hospital in Derry about how they had to pry their hands apart, that Richie’s name was all he said before he went into surgery. 

Nothing was as jarring as the time Myra had tried to get a DNR signed for Eddie, saying it was what he would want. Which was when Beverly had walked in, a swarm of lawyers behind her. Her smile vicious when it landed on Myra. 

That was when the whole they were currently in a separation period, which had been started by Eddie, that had been going on for a year before the accident. 

Richie saw Mrs Kraspback at that moment when looking at Myra. 

She had stormed out of the room, divorce papers were served the next day. 

But that was months ago when they had all the hope in the world that Eddie would wake up when it was safe. They had joked about it, sitting around his bed; Richie even nudging him as if he had reacted to some stupid shit that had spewed from his mouth. 

Doors swung open as he took in the clinically white building, the receptionist smiling at him from behind her headset. Waving him towards the doors, as he picked up the visitor badge. A nurse stood next to him in the elevator reading a file and her frown deepening. He could help but focus on her wavy brown hair and how she was almost the same height as Eddie. 

She huffed as she got off and he saw her slam the file down on a desk. Laughter was punched from his gut as he watched a fellow nurse jump up and try to placate her. 

He was still giggling as he waked into Eddie’s room, free of flowers and smelling like clean laundry and lemons. That fake scent that seemed to permeate every single hospital. He knew though that Eddie would probably enjoy it. Sighing he made his way to his seat, pulling his iPad out of his bag and starting to type away. 

Soft music started to play through the room, some mix that was meant to help people relax and feel comforted. If it did nothing for Eddie, it did work for him. Let him focus completely on one thing. 

“Hey Ed’s.” He muttered, rewriting a few of his jokes and messaging Stan. “Got to see the theatre today, a lot bigger than I have been at before. Did a quick run through. Got told to change the darker ones.” A roll of his eyes, “As if the whole thing isn’t about child serial murderer, coming out and having the love of your life be in a coma.” 

Flipping the screen around, “Look at Patty! Most beautiful pregnant woman in New York.” She was. Richie couldn’t deny it; Stan had lucked out, beautiful wife, good job, a kid on the way and most of all surviving. All the messages under it were the others agreeing and Mike posting a picture from some beach. 

It hadn’t all happened right away. It was the eight-month mark that everyone stared changing, doing what they wanted which was a divorce for Bill and Beverly. Stan finally telling Patty everything. Ben convincing Beverly to live with him. And Mike starting to fly wherever he saw a beach that interested him. 

But Richie stayed, came out via Twitter one morning because he was sick of all the crap that was being said about him. Used his money to get Eddie into a good rehab, along with the help of his friends. 

“How about this for a close?” Sitting up straight in his chair. “So here I was leaning down, to hear the love-filled confession from the man I have been in love with since I was a kid. And he looks at me with his doe eyes, blood passing his lips and it’s somehow quiet right then.” He breathes, “And he smiles, white teeth gleaming.” He sucks in enough air, “And he tells me. I FUCKED YOUR MOM!” Looking around the room like the audience is there, imagining the different looks on their faces. “That is true love! His possible last words and breath and he tells me that.” 

Standing from the chair he bows and waves, pretending to leave the stage. He needs to practice it all. No matter what they say, this is his last chance at a comeback and some are even trying to discount his coming out as a publicity grab. 

Although he had a great love for his younger fans. How they were the ones to be confused about how this place called Derry had a serial child murderer, had a group of very famous people come out of it and most of all how they had almost been killed again.

A laugh came from the door and he looked up, the one nurse who always seemed to here when he was walked in. He was good looking Richie wouldn’t deny it. But nothing about him made him want to give everything up like he had seeing Eddie for the first time again. He was sure he was being flirted with. 

A picture-perfect smile was thrown his way, “That’s the best it’s been yet!” He spoke as he checked Eddie’s vitals. “I feel like I have heard the whole thing for free.” 

Richie smiled tightly and typed out a text. It was the best version of it, he hadn’t had much else to do but speak to Eddie and work on this. “Well it will be up on Netflix in July, they say.” He takes Eddie’s limp hand in his, “But I’m sure I can get it early to show to you Ed’s.” His thumb brushes the soft skin, the warmth of him reassuring. 

The nurse left quietly after that, not trying to keep up his normal nattering. 

Hours passed, just music playing and stupid one-sided conversation. He would look up as other people walked past, they all seemed to have that same tight-lipped smile of someone who understood what he was going through. 

Occasionally he would send parts of his set to Stan who would help him edit parts. Listened to the stuff he had for hecklers in case it happened. Bill also sent in snippets for his new book, which always had a group of people sending, ‘But will the ending be good?’ 

It got late and he dashed down to the cafeteria to grab food and come back. While sitting and actually enjoying the hospital food, he went on Twitter. His favourites were having a debate on what to call them as a group, and just to fuck with them he chose one with a picture of Bev as their profile. 

‘The Losers, if you must know.’ 

He left his phone and looked at Eddie, his hair was getting cut here and they cleaned him daily. But still, he looked pale, sickly and his whole being was dull. Sighing he stood up to go, he still had to go home and the move to New York had been a spur of the moment one. 

Cracking his back and slipping everything back into the bag and getting ready to face the cold grey slush that was New York. Leaning down he pressed his forehead to Eddie’s, “I’ll see you two days, the show will run to late to come to see you.” A deep sigh and he kissed his shoulder, “Don’t go waking up till I come back, you don’t want to be alone for that.” Another squeeze to his limp hand and a kiss to the warm skin, he was leaving. 

The journey down in the elevator was filled with some classical cover of modern songs, stopping by the reception desk he talked for a while. The woman laughing at the thought of trying to get home after her shift, then telling him he will get the call if anything happens. They all seem to know who he is and how much he worries. 

Getting home has his teeth chattering, his fingers going bright pink and the ice water freezing his toes through what he had thought were appropriate shoes. He stood on the Subway, swaying as it moved, pulling dumb faces when people tried to sneak pictures and snapping a picture of an advert for Bill’s soon to be film. 

The snow seemed to just melt and form a film over his skin. 

He could hear the slap of wet socks echoing through his apartment. Pulling them off, he could only think of how Eddie would be shouting at him for not having the right shoes, that he was going to get sick not dressing correctly and how he would just want to pull him up by the jaw and kiss him quiet. 

Slumping down on the couch he looked at the room full of Eddie’s stuff. His townhouse had been sold as part of the prenup, most of his stuff was in storage with a few things brought to Richies for when he woke up and needed somewhere to go. Cracking open a beer he smiled and relaxed into the sound of New York, so much more than LA but also having the weird buzz that his life had lacked before. 

Be that due to the city or him remembering his life from before he left Derry, he didn’t know. 

Morning came fast, his eyes were heavy and he wanted to cry. His phone had been silent the whole night, no messages or calls missed. Just a round of good lucks from the others before they started work. 

He posted on Twitter like he had been told and the same with Instagram. His phone buzzed and he stood muting himself but listening to what his manger was saying as he brushed his teeth and chugged a can of RedBull. The call ended quickly and he showered, drying his hair the way he had been told too and made his way out of his apartment. 

And while his show might not be starting until seven-thirty, Netflix had wanted to do a start to his show. Making him do a full walkthrough of the place before appearing that he was walking on stage to a live crowd. And sadly doing so included him getting hair/makeup/dressed done by professionals. 

It was two hours of being in a room with people who seemed to be happy that it wasn’t an early morning shoot. Even in much like himself they all had RedBull in arms reach. 

By walkthrough number ten, Richie wasn’t sure if his legs could take another run up the main stairs. And certainly, by number twenty he was feeling it. His legs gave out midway and he kept going doing what he was asked and stumbling right up to the stage left. Taking a deep breath and steadying himself, before strutting onto the stage. 

Which somehow changed how this was going to be done. They had him running up to the main door, all filmed from the inside and then making it look like he was passing the camera only to be filmed from behind. 

Two hours is all he had after that to relax, make sure he knew how this was going to go. But he was going to start differently. Today’s activities had made that choice for him. He sent out the text saying he was about to start and left it with his manager. 

A shoulder shake and a swig of water and he walked out on stage. His legs shook under him for a second and he grabbed the mic stand, “Now I know what you may all think is the reason for my legs giving out under me. But you are all wrong!” The noise was ringing through his ear already, “But the lovely people who are filming this had me running up stairs, and I am a middle-aged very unfit man. No matter what my bod might tell you!” He pulled his shirt tight over the slight swell of the stomach he had. 

The rest of the set seemed to go down well, with laughter ringing out of the place until he spotted midway through a joke a couple from the front row sneaking out. “And where do you think you’re going?” They froze and turned to look at him, “You paid for front row tickets and thought I wouldn’t see you leaving? Now I’m not angry, you can leave because I don’t care! Because I already have your money!” 

Laughter filled the theatre and the couple slinked quickly out of the doors at the back, and he slipped back into his set after a little banter with people in the front few rows. 

It was getting close to the end of his set, watching peoples faces as they laughed at his calling a killer a sloppy bitch and he fixed on a face as he told the part about Eddie. There was the sound and feeling he had craved before he had become lazy and stopped writing. It felt good and he stomped off stage. 

Arms wrapped around him and he half-listened as the teams talked to him. Told him about how well it had gone, how they were sure this would lead to another special with Netflix and how he should be ready to go on tour after the reviews came in. 

A frown formed on his face when his manager grabbed him, pulling him into a dressing room and handed him the phone. She was smiling widely in an almost deranged way. He opened his phone and looked down at the call log, he got called three minutes after he left the stage. 

It rang, it felt like years passed until it was picked up. 

A deep breath and he was talking to a Doctor, Eddie had reacted to stimuli in a different way during testing. He had flinched in his hand muscles and they had done the tests needed to make sure it was not an involuntary muscle spasm. He was informed that he should come in tomorrow at nine, to hear about the findings and how they deemed it as Eddie finally starting to come out of his deep state. They would need to go over his medical plans to change for his hopeful awakening. 

Richie stood stunned, while also managing to make a group call. He stood and went over everything he had been told. Patty had let out a small sob at one point saying it was the best feeling when you got that news and Richie could see the pain on Stan’s face without actually doing so. They all suddenly started making plans for when they finally got the news of him waking up. 

It was talks of renting places to stay and how they would get to New York, Mike said he would make it so he was Stateside until then. Before they were all saying that Patty and Stan had an out considering they had the same plans set out for when the littlest Loser came along. 

Hours passed like days. Richie was too wired from preforming and getting the news he had. His skin was itching and he showered twice in the dire need to just do something. 

Walking back through those doors she stood up and waved at him, “Richie I heard! It’s such good news! We are all so happy for you!” Her hair bounced around and people were looking at them. His cheeks felt sore with smiling and the heat that filled them. 

“Yeah, I just...it’s been so long.” He fell forward a little as she wrapped arms around his shoulders, her knees on the desk and she leaned back. 

“We are so happy.” She whispered, pecked him on the cheek and sat down again. Looking like nothing had happened. 

Turning to the elevator he walked hiding his stupid smile, “Thanks so much Angie.” he said with a smile and her cheeks pinked up a little at that. Worry did fill him a little as he got closer to the floor, worried that things would have changed by the time he got there. But instead, he was met by Eddie’s team. 

They walked him into a room and sat him down, “Frankly we are surprised that there was any change. But this is also an excellent thing. It means whatever his brain has been keeping asleep for isn’t there.” The doctor placed his hand on the table, “So we now need to change the type of physio we have been giving him, while also planning on what type he will need when he becomes fully functional.” 

A deep breath, “This could also include speech, we don’t know how he will be affected.” Smiling, “So we just need these forms signed and we can start right away, then you can go visit him.” Paper flipping and pens scratching was all he heard for the next few minutes. Listening as the doctors in the room talked about how Eddie was a fascinating case. 

His shoulders hunched, he knew the only reason Eddie wasn’t dead was that It hadn’t wanted to kill him then. It had wanted to make him die screaming for them, have them running leaving him to die alone. He had fought to carry him out, between him and Mike it had been hard. Scrambling. Breathing in the dust. Looking threw glasses stained with his blood. The taste of it in his mouth. 

Licking his lips and ruffling his hair he stood, watching the pen roll slowly across the table and the doctor joining him on his walk. “Just so you know, he seems to be reacting to sound.” His voice was far too cheery for Richie to handle when his body felt like it could buzz into a different plane of existence. “His eyes dart under his eyelids, his fingers twitch and most importantly he had started making noise. Now it is very subtle and some people can find the noises made very scary.” 

Richie nodded, before realising they were walking to another room. Clenching his jaw for a second, “Will all his stuff be moved with him? He would hate the smell if it isn’t that linen one from his old room.” 

Waving a hand to calm him. “Yes. Don’t worry the room was started to be prepared once we realised what was going on. He was only moved this morning.” They walked into the room, “As you can see it has its own bathroom with shower and a much comfier seating area for when he can leave the bed. As well as a large triple glazed window, which will help with light and mental health with the ability to see out of his room when wanted.” 

Richie took out his phone, his eyes locked completely on Eddie. He was laying in a loose hospital set of pyjamas, his sheet pulled up to his waist and propped up. He looked like he was sleeping with his face turned towards the window. The early morning light casting a gentle glow over his skin. Snapping a picture he looked down on it. 

This is something he wanted to recreate. Make it more intimate. 

The doctor hadn’t stopped talking, “...the streaming services are included as part of the charges in the hospital bill. That should be everything.” He stood in front of Richie offered his hand a blindingly white smile. “Congratulations, I heard you did well last night. Hope that we can do all we can for your partner Mr Tozier.” 

He stood blinking, his hand warm from his skin. 

Richie had the whole place thinking they were more than just friends. They assumed he had left his wife for him. He knew this now, suddenly all the things said to him made perfect sense. How they had seemed to not be fond of Myra, especially after she had refused to pay even part of the bills. 

Sitting down on the couch, he listened to the slightly rattled breathing and the snow starting to fall. He had never been so glad to bring his overnight bag. The way the snow was falling he was starting to doubt he would be able to get home. There wasn’t much he could do until the reviews started coming out after lunch. So he sat back and read Bill’s most recent book, he was near the end and he could see why it had such a loyal following. It was so good. He only flinched when Eddie made this noise. 

Looking up he saw his index finger twitch and even though he was almost finished the second last chapter. He stood, fingers brushing Eddie’s. Raising it up so he could brush his fingers against the slightly warmer skin, glowing under the natural light streaming in the window. He stood just listening to the passible noise, that was enough of Eddie for it to hold at least a little relief for him. 

Moving back to the couch when Eddie seemed to settle, he finished the book. Which had him automatically tweeting at Bill. ‘As your friend, I can tell you. You write shit endings. Do better.’ 

Within minutes Bill was complaining in the group chat and telling Richie at least he wrote his own stuff, which just hurt. All he could think about was that disturbing night. Ben was then standing up for him and informing BIll he was going to do it this time. 

The conversation went on like that for a while, until Richie went to get himself some food. 

The days started to blur after that. He was getting calls to go on talk shows after how well the show went. And he did them, spent every other minute with Eddie. Watching as they did physio and laughing when his eyes would dart frantically at every single bad joke he told. 

Each talk show wanted to talk about his big come back, his new group of friends and they were always so gentle when it came to asking about Eddie. Who he admitted to being in love with since they were little kids. People always got exceptionally soft when he talked about the fact he had never told him how he felt, that he was okay not having more than friendship. Because he loved Eddie enough that just having him be alive and happy, in his life would be more than enough. 

But Stan always got annoyed when he was brought up, ranting about how he was an accountant and had no need to Richie trying to make him famous by association. Which always ended up with Richie talking about how Stan was the true comedian of the group. 

After what seemed like years Richie got a call at two am, Patty was having the groups first baby and he was going to Georgia. After working out the flight details and being the one to sort out a house for the Losers to stay in. He called the hospital. Explaining that he would be out of town for the next week and would be available for calls. 

The redeye he caught to Atlanta was probably the worst flight of his life, it was just done on so little sleep that death seemed more welcoming than this small seat. The others seemed to have the same opinion when they met up at the house. 

Although when they all saw the little bundle of curly brown hair and bright brown eyes, no one seemed to care. He was taking photos constantly, smiling and feeling far too big to hold something so delicate. Stan had sat and listened to him talk about Eddie, while he held her. Brushing fingers over baby soft skin, listening as she gurgled in her sleep and not even caring when she had screamed the house down only minutes later. Patty had somehow become more beautiful in his eyes, with her flushed cheeks and deep circled eyes. Just something about her. 

One night when she had fallen asleep, they had sat and talked. Mike talks about how he felt he could try and find what they have, he wanted the wife and kids. Bev and Ben had stayed quiet, talking through eyes while also straying to look at the crib in the room. He was sure there would be more kids soon. 

He shot up in his seat when his phone started ringing loudly, startling little Ada in her crib. He hurried out of the room and listened. He couldn’t process what he was being told, Bill pried his phone out of his hand. Stood in front of him. Hand firm on his shoulder humming and nodding. 

Bill steered him back into the room, “So Ada screamed loud enough to wake up Eddie.” A dopey smile formed on his face as the others seemed to want to jump and shout. They were just as gobsmacked. 

“It’s just one more day.” Bev spoke up, “We can head up to New York, then.” 

The night couldn’t end quick enough, his skin buzzed the whole day. Taking pictures of Atlanta and Ada, knowing that he would actually be able to show Eddie. Hugs went around as the others told him they would be there the next day, 

He was so excited. Nothing seemed to phase him his whole way there. Until he was at the door. Looking at the handle and suddenly he worried. What if Eddie didn’t remember because of trauma. What if he thought it was disgusting. God what if he wanted his wife there. 

“Fucking! I stop!” 

Richie burst through the door, looking at Eddie who was propped up on the bed staring at the screen on the wall. His eyes darting to Richie. “I missed a whole season of Game Of Thrones?!” He pointed at the screen, “And they tell you everything in the description!” 

Just blinking, he walked over. “Uh, they said it would be slow…” Which got him a look, one that said are you kidding me. 

“Yeah, well I have had to listen to your awful jokes for months. Had to wake up properly so i could tell you too shut the fuck up.” 

“Oh, you do love me!” He threw his arms around Eddie, who just huffed and seemed to lean in a little. 

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, “So got some news.” Eyes darted right to him, barely blinking in fear. “Stan is alive, Yay! Bev and Bill got divorces, yay! Stan had a kid this week, yay!” A deep breath, “You got a divorce, yay? I wrote my own standup, yay?” Scratching at his scruffy chin, “I have pictures!” 

“Back the fuck up Richie.” Eddie muttered, “Tell me they did not name the kid after any of us.” And all he could do was laugh because it had been an almost name at one point. 

“No, little Ada.” He showed a picture and let Eddie scroll through them, his face turning up into a soft smile and his eyes getting heavier the longer he looked. 

Slamming back against the bed, “I’ve slept for what two years, I cannot be tired.” He turned to look up at Richie, which made his heart jump. He barely moved as a hand reached up to the back of his neck. Pulling him down, soft damp breath swept over his face. Biting his own lip and moving so his hands were resting on either side of Eddie’s face, he waited. 

“You know…” Eddie whispered, “...I really did fuck your mom.” 

Richie without missing a beat whispered, “Yeah I love you too, Eds.” Before pressing the most middle school kiss to his mouth. Their stubble scratched against their mouths and when he pulled back, he was caught in soft eyes. 

“God you need to practice.” Was all he got, with a very loud roll of the eyes. 

Laughing was all he could do, staring up at the ceiling and possibly waking anyone in the near vicinity. He had fallen in love with the meanest man out there.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually planned a fic where Richie saw the life he could have had with Eddie in the deadlights. Then when he came back he saw it all die with Eddie, but then I got too sad trying to write it. So instead I wrote an EVERYONE LIVES thing.


End file.
